my roots search the dry earth
by kaltiers
Summary: Every princess has a castle, a place of family and duty. But Elizabeth wants a place to call her own. Elizabeth-centric.


A/N: I love this princess to death, like, you don't even understand. Elizabeth is my baby girl and anyone who says she sucks can catch these hands. Speculation for Elizabeth's pre-manga life. Please take with a grain of salt. Extreme thank you to my forever babe, hakukais (on ao3) , for being my beta and giving me the best feedback.

* * *

The first time Elizabeth leaves the castle she is two, and the city is big and bright, full of many colors and many people. She loves her room dearly—the canopy bed and rose colored walls, speckled with yellow to look like stars—but the marketplace is a window to the bigger world around her.

From in her father's arms, her sisters point out things they think might interest her: the cloth-maker's stall filled with bright silks and fabrics; a carpenter intrinsically carving a hand-held rocking horse. Elizabeth takes them in with wide-eyed wonder, but her gaze lingers on the far city walls, wondering what lies beyond them.

(-)

Elizabeth is four when she steals—

"I'm trading them with flowers, Margaret, not stealing!"

—all of the pillows in the east wing of the castle for the grand construction of her fortress. It will be _hers_ , built from the ground with her own two hands.

A place where she can have adventures, as a pirate pillaging on the seven seas, or a dragon hoarding all of her gold (it was a tin of biscuits, really). Elizabeth wants to keep her fortress forever but, while in her heart it is in a land far away, it is still built in her room.

Only hours after its creation, her father tells her to tear it down and return all of the pillows to their proper places. She obeys with a tight, raw feeling in her chest and tears in her eyes.

Grounded to her room, Elizabeth stares out her window to the land beyond the city gates and wonders if she will ever find her real fortress.

(-)

At age five, Elizabeth sits in the castle garden and plucks at the weeds, dress skirts pooling around her knees, and questions if the castle is really her home.

She heard the whispers of the royal court after being scolded by her father for rigging a door to drop honey and feathers on a visiting duke's head.

" _The child has a dreadful lack of manners_."

" _A princess should know better and not fool around like a jester_."

" _I feel it is to be expected. After all, she is not royal by blood_."

Elizabeth feels her face warm in embarrassment when remembering the words, sharp like a dagger to her stomach. She is old enough to know the difference between herself and her older sisters, but she also knows that difference means nothing to her family and the staff of the castle. She is their third princess; if not by blood, then by love.

It doesn't rid the high-ranking individuals of their opposing opinion, however.

Sighing, Elizabeth tosses another clump of grass and dirt and stares mournfully up at the soft blue of the sky. Her eyes shift to the towering oak in the center of the garden, then slide to the maids and knights milling about.

A bright grin forms on Elizabeth's face as she scurries to stand, kicking off her thin shoes. Setting her hands against the rough bark, she struggles to get the first hold, but manages to find sturdy knots to grab and crawls her way up the tree.

She hears the panicked shouting begin around halfway to the top, but she ignores them, focusing on the next branch and the throbbing pain in her red, raw hands.

Arms tired and dress feeling slightly damp with sweat, Elizabeth glows as she stands on the highest branch of the towering oak. What a view it was! She could see over into the marketplace to the south, and Lady Merlin's castle to the east.

Glancing down, the worried faces of the servants and knights are merely silhouettes to her at her great height. But soon, she sees a familiar figure and smiles down at her father as he nears her tree. She had climbed the tree even the most skilled and nimble could not—not even her tomboy sister Veronica!

"Father!" Elizabeth cries excitedly. "Look how high I climbed. Are you proud of me?"

But her father does not hear her as he immediately moves to the tree—pale as a clean sheet of parchment—and reaches up around the thick trunk, beginning to ascend.

Elizabeth shuffles on her thin branch as she watches with worry. She only wanted him to see her success. Her father has never climbed a tree in his entire life, and she is afraid he will hurt himself.

As if Fate herself was listening in on Elizabeth's thoughts, her father reaches for the next branch, slips, hand grasping in futile at the air, and falls with a solid _thunk_.

"Father!" Elizabeth secures her grip on the branch under her feet, then swings down onto the lower branch with a fear in her heart she has never felt before. Her heart thumps loudly in her ears as she continues a pattern of _grip_ , _swing_ , _land_ , until she is very near the bottom. But her hands are slick with sweat, and she loses her grip and falls to the earth below.

A small shriek escapes her lips before she finds herself landing in a pair of armored arms, metal gauntlets clanging under her weight.

"Princess Elizabeth," Zaratras says, gently placing her down on the ground next to her discarded shoes. "Are you unharmed? What even possessed you to climb that tree?"

"I-I don't . . . I'm sorry!" Elizabeth stutters. Her lungs burn, her breath is shallow, and tears are flowing thick and fast down her red cheeks. "I-is my father okay?"

She turns on unsteady legs and spots her father, unmoving on the rock-littered grass of the courtyard, a thick red stain underneath his head.

"Father!" she screams, turning to run to his side, but a strong hand grasps her shoulder.

"Princess, you must leave him in the hands of the healers," Zaratras urges. Elizabeth struggles to get free, but the steady grip of the Great Holy Knight anchors her in place. She can only watch through blurry eyes as a handful of knights call for healers and begin to move their king.

A soft pull on her hand slowly turns her gaze from the blood seeping through the cloths pressed to her father's head.

"Come, princess," Zaratras says softly. "You must receive healing yourself. Your father will be well taken care of."

Too exhausted to try and argue, Elizabeth grasps his hand—the blisters painfully stinging against the cold metal of his armor—and mechanically follows the knight. She sits, numb and eyes blank, while a woman heals the numerous scratches gained by falling from the tree, but it is nothing compared to the injury her father has.

 _All because of her_.

Fresh tears well in her eyes, and Elizabeth sniffles before rubbing her nose on her dress sleeve. Veronica bursts into her room and gives her a big hug and a loud scolding—" _don't you_ ever _scare me like that again, Ellie_!"—before dragging her to their father's chambers, where he rests with a thick, white bandage wrapped tightly around his head. Margaret sits at his bedside, but stands when the two girls enter the room.

She hugs Elizabeth tightly and strokes her hair. "We were so worried about you."

Elizabeth sniffs and buries her head into Margaret's clothed shoulder. "Is father alright?"

"He's sleeping. But he should recover in a few days time with good rest."

The news practically turns Elizabeth's legs boneless and she wilts with relief.

Her father will _live_!

She dashes to his bed, but slows before sitting—softly, hesitantly—on the empty space beside him. Leaning forward, Elizabeth strokes her father's injury with her small bandaged hands. She's vaguely aware of Margaret and Veronica exiting the room, but all of her attention is on the man lying deathly pale on stark white sheets.

On how she was the cause of his injury.

"I-I'm so sorry, father." Elizabeth can feel the tears again and tries to hold them back, but the ache in her chest is just too tight, too strong, and now alone with her father, she breaks.

And everything spills out.

She's sorry for climbing the tree; she's sorry for all of her pranks, however harmless she thought them to be; she's sorry for not acting like a proper princess ought to. But most of all, she is sorry for doubting her place in her family's life.

Elizabeth knows that she has a place in her father's heart. She no longer doubts her place in the Liones kingdom.

(But she still doubts—wonders—if she will ever have her fortress, the place that's her own. Doubts if she will ever have the achievements accomplished all on her own acknowledged.)

(-)

Elizabeth is ten when Margaret teaches her embroidery. She struggles at first, with her innate clumsiness rearing its ugly head in the form of continuous pricks to her fingers, even when protected by a thimble.

"You must be gentle and patient when handling the needle," Margaret informs her. She holds up her own work to demonstrate. "Like so."

Elizabeth watches as Margaret skilfully slides the needle back and forth through the soft fabric, adding touches to the bouquet of flowers stitched on her cloth. The young princess glances down at her own work and frowns at the lopsided petals and loose stitching.

"I don't think I'm doing it right," Elizabeth informs blandly.

Margaret sighs with all of the patience and serenity a sixteen year old shouldn't have. "Just continue your work, but keep your threads close together."

Muttering under her breath, Elizabeth continues until her studies begin. After hours of cramming history and impossible arithmetic problems into her head, she escapes to the abandoned tower on the south side of the castle.

What was once a place of relaxation for the notorious Seven Deadly Sins is now a storage room for unused furniture and old weapons and armour.

It is Elizabeth's secret haven.

Hardly anyone comes into the main room of the tower, and even if they do, there are hidden passageways to the smaller, lesser-known rooms of the tower. It's an intrinsic maze that Elizabeth hides in, reveling in the peace of the environment. She can hear the soft chirping of birds in the rafters above, the bustle of the citizens in the markets and around the castle.

It is like another world, separate from the busy yet mundane tasks in the life of royalty. Elizabeth thinks that if she has to walk with a book on her head again, she'll run away to pick apples from trees for the rest of her life.

"Speaking of apples," she sighs, looking longingly towards the rolling hills and lush forests—the apple trees are in bloom now that it is spring—beyond the walls of Liones.

She wants to see the world at least some time in her life, to know what lies beyond the life in a castle. Do the neighboring kingdoms have similar markets, or does the south differ from the north? Is the food the same everywhere, or are there spices and flavors unknown even to the cooks in Liones?

Elizabeth longs for answers; but for now, she is content in the small place she can call her escape, while it lasts.

(It is not her own. The Sins were here first, and Elizabeth aches for the day she can say, "this is mine, you see.")

(-)

Her fifteenth birthday comes and goes, and there is an underlying tension in Liones. Elizabeth knows not what it is, but fears for her people all the same.

Armed with her earring—a gift from Margaret that is a reminder of both her family and her kingdom—and her own willpower, Elizabeth faces each day with a bright smile.

But there are dark whispers of a coming Holy War, and the citizens of Liones stare down at the cobblestone streets as they go about their own business. What was once a warm place full of bright laughter and childish games in the square is now a dim, pale imitation.

She tries speaking to her sisters of it, but Margaret is growing more estranged from their family and Veronica is interacting more with the Holy Knights. Her father tells her with a soft smile that nothing is wrong. She sees the hollow look in his eyes, the tired wrinkles in his face, and knows he is lying.

Elizabeth can only pray that what may come will not destroy the kingdom she holds dear in her heart.

The kingdom that no longer feels like home.

(She desires that fortress more than anything now.)

(-)

Elizabeth is sixteen when the Holy Knights stage a coup d'etat in the kingdom, committing mutiny against their king.

The kingdom is in absolute chaos.

Her father is captured, Margaret is imprisoned, Veronica is sided with the Holy Knights, and the citizens are forcibly recruited to partake in military efforts. Those who oppose are struck down without mercy. The Knights claim it is for their protection in the upcoming Holy War. Elizabeth does not believe that such cruelty will protect them from a war, but will become one of the factors which starts it.

Her father wants only peace, but terror has taken place.

It is a nightmare come to life.

The word for her capture frightens Elizabeth into action. The only people who may be able to right the wrong done unto the kingdom are the very ones who were called traitors. The individuals who have the strength to match, and hopefully defeat, the current Holy Knights.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Before any more harm comes to her people and family, she must find them.

She sneaks out of her room and takes an old, rusting suit of armour—leaving a cutting of rosemary in its place—from her old south tower.

Elizabeth stays on the back roads and hides in alleys until she escapes through the east gate. She stands on a small hill, eyes wide and hands shaking as she gazes at the home of her childhood. It is the first time she is alone outside the castle walls. She thinks of her father and her sisters, of her childhood friends and the people of the kingdom, and with tears in her eyes, Elizabeth turns her back to the castle and walks away.

Elizabeth has a mission: to find the Sins and save her people.

(There is a small bud of hope that perhaps, in this wide, open world, she will finally find her own.)

(-)

The journey is long on foot.

Elizabeth merely wanders, alone out in the wilderness, muttering to herself 'find the Seven Deadly Sins,' a mantra that holds together her sanity.

By the end of her first day she is exhausted. Her limbs and stomach ache, but they do not compare to the ache in her heart.

She is growing desperate. There has been no sightings of anyone who could possibly be one of the Sins. Elizabeth is worried that her search may end before it even begins.

The second day she is almost ready to collapse. This is her first journey, and she is on her own, but Elizabeth keeps moving her feet. She must find them, even if she cannot rely on anyone but herself.

She wishes her sisters were at her side.

Elizabeth's vision blurs through her now fully-rusted armour, but she continues on to the east, the sun bright in the sky on her third day alone. She spies a small house on the top of a small mountain near the village of Kaynes, smoke curling from its chimney, and staggers to reach it.

Perhaps this is the first _real_ step on her journey.

(-)

She wakes up in an unknown bed in an unknown room to the young face of a short, blond-haired boy—the shop owner, she corrects herself after he reveals he is, in fact, not a swordsman, but has a broken sword for precautions against eat-and-runs in his bar. He is kind to her, caring for her after she collapsed, and the talking pig—Hawk—is _adorable_.

She looks around in wonder at the wood furnishings and numerous bottles of alcohol she's never heard of as she sits at the bar stool. The first place she's come across since she began heading east, and it is homey and bright. It is how the castle felt before everything in her life came crashing down.

This stranger is doing so much for her, and she has nothing to repay him with.

"It's alright, just eat!" he says after she voices her hesitations.

Steam rises into the air from the delicious-looking food. Elizabeth takes a small bite and immediately freezes. The flavor doesn't match its appearance _at all_.

The owner has a grin on his face. "It tastes horrible, doesn't it?"

Elizabeth can do nothing but mechanically swallow and reply, "yes."

But it is the first _real_ food she's had in three days. It has been cooked with kindness, and Elizabeth feels tears gather in her eyes, then flow down her cheeks to land on the plate with a soft _plop_. After days of not relying on anyone else, of not knowing if she was going to make it to see the next sunrise, this food is the greatest thing she has ever received.

When he asks why she was in the armor, Elizabeth feels hope rising in her chest. Perhaps he knows something and her search will finally bear fruit.

Mouth desert-dry and heart in her throat, Elizabeth begins, "I'm looking for the Seven Deadly Si—"

Loud, sudden pounding on the door to the bar startles Elizabeth into dropping her fork. The voice on the other side announces the garrisoned knights have come to capture the 'Rust Knight', who they believe to be one of the Seven Deadly Sins. But the knight in the rusted armour is Elizabeth, and she cannot be caught.

"Holy Knights," she murmurs fearfully under her breath. She cannot afford to abandon her search, not now.

Elizabeth stands at the back of the bar as the owner goes to open the front door, but quickly slips out the rear door. Hidden from view, she watches with worry as the lead knight picks the owner up by his collar, a vicious scowl on the man's face.

Elizabeth cannot—will not—put those who helped her in danger, so she bolts into the forest. She can hear the angry shouts and thud of metal on her tail over her own heavy breathing.

 _Run_ , _run_ , _run_ , she commands herself, urging her legs to move faster as she slides under fallen trees and leaps over roots and rocks. There is a cacophony of screams and crashes behind her, but she dares not turn around for fear of tripping. She nears the end of the forest and can see the edge of the cliff, but suddenly she is airborne.

Elizabeth gasps when she feels an arm around her waist and blinks as she finds herself in the branches of a tree; in the arms of the bar owner, in fact.

"How can I thank you for saving me twice?" she asks, embarrassed and more than grateful.

He merely smiles. "So, how does the rest of that story go?"

He sets her down on the grass of the mountainside, and Elizabeth finds her eyes drawn to the endless land of green. She stares at the little village and small farms spread out across the countryside and thinks, _this is for them too_. Her search is to stop the Holy Knights, not only for the people trapped in the walls of Liones, but the free people in all of Britannia as well.

She feels their gaze on her back, waiting for an answer, a story she believes they deserve. It is a story she has to tell, to warn others of the reality that the people they call protectors, are not protectors at all.

She tells him she is searching for the Seven Deadly Sins to stop the Holy Knights. These strangers in their quaint little bar have helped her so many times that she will never forget them, but they must forget her. Elizabeth turns to leave but is stopped in her tracks by the question that never fails to chill her to her bones.

" _The Holy Knights are heroes, aren't they_?"

Elizabeth feels her heart pounding in her ears just thinking of what the Holy Knights have done to wage war against Britannia. They have become terrifying existences, where one alone has power enough to rival an entire army.

Retelling all that has happened in the last few days to the kingdom—to her family; to the men who are drafted, the women and children who must store all of their food, and the elderly who are forced to build walls—brings sharp, stinging tears to her eyes. The only hope for Britannia is in the stories her father told her many years ago. The stories of the strongest and cruelest order of Holy Knights in the kingdom, composed of criminals who each carved one of seven beasts into their skin. Even if they were accused of plotting to overthrow the kingdom, Elizabeth's greatest hope is that the Seven Deadly Sins did not perish after disbanding. Such powerful people cannot die so easily.

The ground beneath her feet suddenly begins to quake, and Elizabeth screams as a massive chunk of earth collapses beneath their feet.

Elizabeth doesn't know how it happens, but one moment she's falling, and the next the blond boy is safely depositing her, Hawk, and the knight that had fallen onto the grass away from the gaping hole in the side of the cliff. Elizabeth can't help but glance down at the pile of earth on top of the buried forest and think, _that could have been me_.

Movement catches her eye, and she looks forward to see a ridiculously tall, large Holy Knight menacingly advancing towards them. Elizabeth immediately feels a shiver crawl down her spine. She shifts her feet, ready to run into the forest on the signal from the boy—a boy, yet he does _impossible_ feats!

But it all goes downhill as she is recognized by her earring, her symbol of royalty. There's a warrant for her throughout the kingdom, and now she is to be captured alive; or dead, judging by the malicious gaze of the Holy Knight. They are taking her, dead or alive.

 _Dead or alive_.

Elizabeth is terrified, but she forces herself to turn and run. She can't allow herself to be captured, not now, and certainly not by a Holy Knight. There is no way she will give up.

She glances over her shoulder and gasps as she sees a wall of trees, cut straight through their centers, falling towards them in an explosion of air and debris. The ground rushes at her as she is bodily tackled from behind. Elizabeth shuts her eyes tight and twists her body so she lands on her back, not her face, and feels a dizzying pressure in her head when it meets the dirt.

Saved again by this mysterious bar owner. She cannot—will not—let his blood be spilled on her account, so she walks away from him to surrender quietly, if only so the Holy Knight will not take his life.

But the Holy Knight sends another startling attack straight at her, carving a deep fissure into the earth, and Elizabeth is again saved by a tackle from the boy. Even if it looks like the Holy Knight will kill them anyway, she cannot understand why this bar owner in the middle of nowhere will stick his own neck in to help her.

With tears in her clothes and cuts along her skin, Elizabeth begins to cry. Hot tears fall down past her eyes and stick in her hair. She has been alone since her escape from the castle, on the roads by herself, hiding her identity in armour she was unused to.

And yet, this person is so kind to her, a girl he doesn't even know. He's shown her more compassion than she's seen in quite a while, and she doesn't want to involve him in this. This boy whose name she doesn't even know—

" _Meliodas_. _My name's Meliodas_."

Elizabeth blinks in shock.

But that's . . . impossible. It can't be, because the person before her looks like a child. Yet revealed by his shredded sleeve, this boy—no, this _man_ —has the symbol of a beast marking his left arm.

"The Dragon," she whispers reverently.

It continues like a fairy tale, a story out of the books her father used to read to her at night. A hero arises and faces the villain against all the odds. The small boy before her stands and faces the giant of a man.

The Holy Knight attacks, but his blow is deflected and a deep gash forms on the man's cheekbone. An attack of that power should have killed him, but the boy stands unharmed, his broken blade now in hand.

"Meliodas," Elizabeth breathes, eyes fixed on the figure before her. "Are you really that . . .?"

Elizabeth cannot truly be sure it is him, but there is a strange feeling in her heart, a whisper in the back of her mind that this is truly who she has been searching for. Her legs are tingling from both lack of blood by sitting on them and the atmosphere around her, like lightning has coursed through her veins the moment Meliodas had drawn his sword.

"I remember seeing your face before, but it can't be," the Holy Knight exclaims, eyes wide with shock. "Why has your appearance not changed since then!"

"Have you figured out who I am?" Meliodas questions, eyes narrow in focus and a smirk on his lips.

Face twisting with rage at the taunt, the Holy Knight strikes, raising up a storm of dust and dirt. "You are—"

Meliodas swings his sword, slashing the air before him.

"—the Dragon's Sin of Wrath of the Seven Deadly Sins, Meliodas," he declares.

Faster than Elizabeth can even open her mouth in a gasp, the mountain top explodes. A catastrophic plume of debris rises in the sky, blasting the battered Holy Knight away. Strangely enough, from her position on the ground behind Meliodas, Elizabeth is protected from the brunt on the explosion. Only her hair is touched, flying around her head in the wind generated from the ring of immense pressure that circled out from his counter attack. Eventually, the dust settles down, revealing a nearly cleared landscape, with only a few remaining tree trunks strewn across the ground.

Elizabeth slowly stands, eyes wide and heart pounding loudly against her chest, and watches quietly as Meliodas makes a quip at the Holy Knight's expense before sheathing his blade.

This man of legend that stands before her, this _kind-hearted_ and _powerful_ man, is the answer to her prayers. Her days spent wandering alone without a single shred of hope have finally come to an end. Here before her is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

He turns to her and jabs a thumb towards his chest. "Well, with this, you've found the first one, Elizabeth. There's only six remaining."

It seems like pure coincidence that Meliodas himself has been recently searching for the rest of his order due to 'unfinished business,' but Elizabeth believes there is something much larger at work than mere coincidence. Poster girl for the bar doesn't sound all that bad, and if she can contribute her abilities to repay him and help find the rest of the Sins, Elizabeth will begin _immediately_.

She remains staring, somewhat still in a state of mild disbelief, but blinks and focuses when he looks up at her with bright, questioning eyes.

Meliodas grins. "You'll come with me, right?"

With a radiant smile, cheeks glowing a dusty rose, and eyes glistening with tears, Elizabeth clasps her trembling hands together and nods. " _Yes_!"

Elizabeth cannot recall such a time when she was as excited and joyful as she is now. Her search is nowhere near complete, but now she has true hope. From here on the road will be more dangerous and challenging, but Elizabeth is ready for anything that will stand in her path. She has been since the first day she stepped outside the castle walls to aid her kingdom with nothing but her heart and her soul.

(-)

It's a night of rest and revelry at the Boar Hat, and Elizabeth glances around her. Diane happily converses with Lord King, Lord Ban reclines on a barrel and drinks away, Hawk eats his leftovers, and Lord Meliodas sits with Lord Gowther at the bar's outside wooden table.

Elizabeth watches the interactions of these amazing, extraordinary people, and smiles. They are the Seven Deadly Sins, joined together to free the kingdom of Liones. They are her companions, aiding her on the journey she struggled with alone.

But more importantly, they are her friends, staying by her side out of acknowledgement of her own bravery and conviction.

She stands, watching them, and thinks, _this is where I belong_.

Elizabeth feels a tear escape from her eye, but she brushes it away and dashes over to the group at Diane's inviting wave, smiling all the way.

Raised by her own hand, this group, this _experience_ , is her own.

 _Finally_.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so, canon(ish) timeline for Elizabeth:

Age 0-3?: brought from Danafor, her birth home, to Liones by her adoptive father  
Age 3-6: climbed the tree in the garden; her father climbed after her but fell  
Age 6: Seven Deadly Sins are framed & escape from Liones, then branded traitors  
Age 16: leaves Liones in search of Seven Deadly Sins

The rest is born from my artistic liberties. I hope that helps with putting things together.


End file.
